


The Importance of Body Language

by poisontaster



Series: Heart 'Verse [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Permanent Injury, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-24
Updated: 2008-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs a workout. 3 weeks after shotofjack's Dig, Baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Body Language

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shotofjack](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=shotofjack).
  * Inspired by [Dig, Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/175135) by Shotofjack. 



"Hey."

At the sound of Sam's voice, Dean surfaces and his shoulders immediately pimpling over in goosebumps as they leave the warmed water. He wipes his face with one hand, blinking through the chlorine. "Hey."

Sam clearly came straight from bed with a short detour for the sweats slung low on his hips and inside-out T-shirt. His hair is still rumpled, flattened on one side and his mouth has the soft, slack 'just-woke-up' look it has before his first bitchface of the day.

Sam folds down to the concrete, tugging up his sweats over his knees so he can dip his legs in. "Kinda late for a swim, innit?"

Dean lets his feet touch the bottom, first his good leg and then the bad one. He feels steadier in the water, more solid. He wades to Sam, running his hands up skinny, hairy legs to cup Sam's knees, thumbs caressing the points.

"Kinda cold too," Sam adds, though a smile curls the corners of his lips.

Dean balances on his good leg and cranes up, tilting his head. Sam's grin widens and he curls down, lips parting.

Dean fists both hands in Sam's shirt and _pulls_ , twisting aside as Sam tumbles, squawking, into the water. Dean chuckles and hop-steps backwards quickly, but not quickly enough as Sam flounders up, swearing. "Oh, _bitch_." Sparks spit from Sam's eyes as he lunges for Dean.

Damn him and his long arms anyway.

They go under in a champagne rush of bubbles and battling limbs. Sam has the upper hand at first, because Dean's laughing too hard and gets water up his nose but Dean's been using the pool every day since they filled it. And he fights dirty.

"I wasn't tired," Dean murmurs in Sam's ear once he's got Sam where he wants him, one arm snaked under Sam's armpit to grip his shoulder and the other wrapped around Sam's waist. Sam's still half-heartedly struggling until Dean jabs his hips, driving his half-hard cock into the cleft of Sam's ass. Sam gets still real quick then and Dean smiles against the nape of his neck.

"Dean…" It's only a breath, unsteady and unsure, wavering on the edge of surrender. All it will take is a little encouragement…

Dean pushes up Sam's shirt, scrapes his teeth down the damp, excruciatingly sensitive skin of Sam's back, from the curve of Sam's broad shoulder all the way down, holding his breath to tease the last few inches to just above the inward dip of Sam's spine. Sam starts shaking. Dean straightens from his crouch and plasters himself against his brother's back again, sliding his hand under the waistband of Sam's sweats. Sam's cock is already full, straining into Dean's grasp. When Dean's fingers close around him, Sam's breath turns to loud, coarse pants, his head tipping back onto Dean's.

"Dean." The movement of Sam's hips is slow, slurring his cock through Dean's fingers, dragging his skin along Dean's. "Dean."

Dean's a lot more than half-hard now, thrusting against the plush give of Sam's ass. "Yeah," he agrees roughly. "Naked. Need you naked."

"Yeah." Sam's voice has thickened, deepened as if he's drugged. He's slow-moving, tardy as Dean hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Sam's sweats, dragging them down. Sam gets tangled in his own shirt, dragging it over his head, and Dean has to pull it the rest of the way off, gnawing marks into the smooth browned flesh of Sam's back, his shoulders. Sam moans, pushing back into it. _"Dean."_ The tone of Sam's voice is unmistakable, as is the way he grinds his ass back into Dean's cock. It feels good. It feels better than good, but Dean reaches between them, guides himself down, sliding the head across the soft-sensitive skin between Sam's balls and hole.

Sam squirms in Dean's grip. "Don't tease," Sam growls, almost unintelligibly.

"I'm not." Dean tugs Sam's cock, rubbing rough across the tight-stretched, silky skin. At the same time, he slides his own length between Sam's thighs, sweet friction of coarse hair and soft skin. Sam whines and pants, rolling with Dean. "There's no lube."

Sam groans. "I hate you so much right now."

"Hey, I'm no welsher." Dean twists around the head of Sam's cock. "I'll get you there. C'mon, tighten up for me, Sammy." He balances on his good leg and nudges Sam's feet closer together with the other. "Be tight for me."

"F-fuck." Sam stutters slightly over the curse, clenching his thighs together, angling a little so Dean fits right along that sweet strip of skin, the head of his cock pushing soft against Sam's sac.

"Yeah, like that." Dean hides his face against Sam's shoulder blade, eyes closed, focused on the quivering flex of Sam's thigh muscles around him and the stroke-jerk of his own hand wrapped around Sam's cock. "Feel so sweet, Sam. Clench up. Clench…oh… _oh_ , yeah, like that."

Dean thought it would take him longer to come, the feel of Sam this way, feel of the water so completely different than fucking on a bed or shower or any of the other ways or places he's had Sam. Maybe that's why it doesn't take long at all, warm skin, warm water and Sam pushing and squirming and moaning against him. Dean groans out against Sam's back, spurting in hard, hot pulses. Sam's hand closes hard over Dean's, forcing Dean to jerk him harder, faster; when Dean spills between Sam's tight clenched thighs, Sam chokes and lets out a garbled, stifled sound, shooting out his own orgasm into Dean's fingers.

Afterward, they float aimlessly, fingers 'accidentally' brushing across each other in lingering touches.

"You know we're totally going to have to clean the pool now, right?" Sam says contemplatively.

Dean snorts. "It'll give the kids something to do tomorrow. We'll leave them a note. Sleep in."

"And here I'm supposed to be the smart one."

"This is what I've been saying for _years_ , man."


End file.
